Sometimes It Gets Even The Best Of Us
by hopelesslydevotedtohguh
Summary: Set after Hunting. Cameron attempts to deal with the possibility that she has AIDS, but fails miserably. Can House help her pick up the pieces?
1. Ignoring The Warning Signs

_"Depression is nourished by a lifetime of ungrieved and unforgiven hurts"_

_Penelope Sweet quotes_

"Blame it on the Bossa Nova. With its magic spell. Blame it on the Bossa Nova that he did so well. Oh it all began with just one little dance. But soon it ended up a big romance. Blame it on the Bossa Nova the dance of love!"

Allison Cameron sang along with her I-Pod, swaying her hips to the beat of the music as she began preparing dinner. She was so engrossed in the music that she didn't her the knock at her door.

"Blame it on the Bossa...EEEP!" Cameron let out a shriek as she turned to grab a knife off the counter, but instead found herself staring into the piercing blue eyes of her boss.

Greg House smirked as Cameron flushed and tried to compose herself. "Are you always in the habit of entertaining guests with a song and dance?" he said arching an eyebrow.

Cameron flushed deeper, "Well guest implies that they have been invited into my home and that I was aware of their presence," she replied crossing her arms. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking? In some cultures it might be considered rude to just enter a person's home unannounced."

House chuckled; he always liked this bantering side of Cameron. "Well I did, several times in fact but you and Miss Edie Gorme were getting along so well that I just let myself in."

If at all possible Cameron's face flushed an even deeper red. She turned and began chopping vegetables as she had intended to before House scared the bejeebies out of her. "What do you want House?"

"I came to see check on you, see how you were handling things."

Cameron snorted, "Sure. Well as you can see I'm just fine," she said continuing with her chopping which had slightly increased in pace.

"Liar."

"Everybody lies," she said pushing her hair out of her eyes to look at him.

"Touché," he said, gracing her with a small smile.

"Why are you really here House?" she said, setting down the knife and facing him.

"I was concerned with how you've been acting at work. You've been hiding in the lab, are always exhausted and in general avoiding people. And others are starting to notice, not just me." He said, deciding that if she wanted the truth then she could get it. "Cameron look at yourself, how much weight have you lost in just this past week? You aren't taking care of yourself, and if you're not going to do it then you'll have to be forced to do it."

Cameron had turned pale, she hadn't expected House to have a legitimate reason, and she sure as hell wasn't expecting that. "So, I've missed lunch a couple of days its no big deal, and as for being exhausted I'm always tired, as are you guys. And the avoiding people thing, what's wrong with not wanting to be around a lot of people? You do it all the time."

"But you're not me. And you have missed more than a few lunches this week. I bet this dinner that you're making is small and it's probably your first meal of the day" he said gesturing to the kitchen

"Are you saying I have an eating disorder?" Cameron said her tone accusing.

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying that because of the incredible stress and strain that you are under you've lost your appetite and as a result your stomach is shrinking so even when you are hungry you're not hungry for a normal sized meal."

"Stress and strain?" she chuckled mirthlessly. "Sure why don't we chalk it up to that. Because you know the possibility of having AIDS is just a normal stress for me. Or perhaps there's the having taken meth and sleeping with Chase? Or wait maybe it's that when things were finally shaping up in my life everything had to fall apart," her voice raising in volume and shaking as tears started to fall from her eyes.

House looked at her and saw the strong woman who'd already been through hell and back break down, and for once he had nothing to say.

"Don't give me that look of pity! I don't want your damn pity. Just get out House, get out," Cameron said sinking to the floor in tears, as the weight of everything came crashing down on her.

"No."

"No?"

"No. I am not leaving. You're just going to have to deal with me being here."

"I can take care of myself," she said, fumbling for a towel.

"Riiiight, and that's why I'm here now, because you've done such a good job of it that you won an award," he said sarcastically.

Cameron looked up at him and she saw that he was genuinely concerned for her.

"Let's see if we can find some actual food for you, none of this rabbit crap," House said turning away from her and moving to the fridge. He opened the door and inside found a chicken breast, some milk and a few pieces of fruit. "Have you gone shopping at all?"

Cameron shook her head. "I haven't felt like it all week. I know I should but I just didn't want to."

House sighed and scrubbed his face. What was he going to do with her? She couldn't keep living like this she'd eventually have a breakdown or end up in the hospital for malnutrition.

"Get up," he said offering his hand to help her off the floor.

Cameron looked at his offered hand, and at his face. "Why?"

"Because I'm taking you out of here. You have no food here and you need someone to watch you to make sure that you're taking care of yourself. That's why."

Cameron blinked and took his hand.

"Good. Now go pack a bag with clothes and whatever smelly girl stuff you've got."

"Where are we going?" She asked as she headed out of the kitchen.

"You're going to stay at my place. I'll drive us into work every day. You're staying with me until I'm satisfied that you are capable of taking care of yourself. Even if you have to stay until you get your results from the damn AIDS test."

Cameron's mouth opened to protest, but she closed it quickly when she realized that arguing with him would be pointless. She moved back into the kitchen to clean up what would have been her dinner.

"Uh-uh, you pack, I'll clean this up," he said making a shooing motion.

She left the kitchen and went to pack her bag of stuff to take to House's with her.


	2. What people don't see is what matters

"_When we are angry or depressed in our creativity, we have misplaced our power. We have allowed someone else to determine our worth, and then we are angry at being undervalued."  
Julia Margaret Cameron_

While Cameron packed her bag, House began to clean up the mess in her kitchen. He threw away the vegetables she'd cut up and turned to put the dishes in the sink. He noticed that the dishes were piling up, as though they hadn't been done in several days. He sighed and rolled up his sleeves, and filled the sink with soap and water.

How had he managed to not notice until now, how bad her depression was? Sure he knew that her life hadn't been easy for her, but she seemed to deal with it pretty well, or at least she had until recently.

He almost hadn't come over tonight, he had initially planned on sending Foreman or Wilson to check on her, but something in the back of his mind had told him that he needed to go. The thought that if Wilson or Foreman had come they might have missed the little details and left her alone, sent a chill down his spine.

He knew better than to leave a person suffering from severe depression by themselves. Eventually she would have stopped functioning and by the time everyone would have realized what was happening it would have been too late to help her.

He dried his hands on a dish towel and popped a vicodin before going to see what was taking Cameron so long.

He found her staring into her closet, a half packed bag lying open on her bed.

"You know it's not like your clothes are going to jump out of the closet themselves," he said startling Cameron out of her reverie.

Cameron gave him a small smile, and grabbed a few more things from her closet and placed them in her bag. "Alright I'm ready," she said grabbing her bag from the bed and walking towards the door.

House nodded, and followed her. Before locking the door they made sure everything was turned off, and then headed to House's car.

Cameron placed her bag in the backseat of the car, and settled comfortably into her seat. House started the car and they headed in the direction of his apartment.

Cameron glanced over at House, and noticed that he looked tense, well more so than usual, and he also looked a little worried.

She was still quite confused as to why House was doing this. She knew she had been slowly falling apart over the past few weeks, but she had stopped caring about what happened. She had allowed her depression to interfere with her daily life, and logically that should have been a warning sign for her but that would have forced her to admit that something was indeed wrong and she didn't want to do that.

They pulled up in front of House's apartment and he stopped the car. She looked over at him, silently asking if he was serious about her staying there with him. He just unbuckled her seatbelt and gestured that she should get out of the car.

She grabbed her bag and headed to the door. House placed his key in the lock and opened the door, allowing Cameron to enter before him. She glanced around the living room as though she were trying to solve part of the puzzle that was him by his possessions.

House took her around the place, pointing out the various rooms and locations of towels and stuff. Eventually they came to a small room with a fold out futon, desk and computer.

"This used to be my office, but you are welcome to sleep in here. Or I could give you my bed and sleep in here," he said gesturing to the room.

Cameron looked at him, "No House this is fine, more than fine. I'm not going to put you out of a bed just because I'm having some issues."

House frowned at this statement but wisely chose to ignore it. "Well the bathroom's over there, so why don't you go take a shower and I'll make us some dinner?"

Cameron nodded and placed her bag on the floor. A shower was just what she needed.

House walked out of the room and headed into the kitchen to start dinner.

Cameron stepped into the shower and turned the water on full blast. She turned the heat up as high as her body could stand and for a while stood under the streaming water thinking about everything that had happened recently.

She slid slowly to the floor of the shower, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't understand why this had happened. She sat there for a while, the water beating down on her, mixing with the salty tears sliding down her cheeks. She'd worked so hard to get where she was and to help everyone she could and now she was being punished, why?

It didn't make any sense; she stood up washing the tears from her face. Her sadness quickly turned to anger and frustration. She was a good person, and bad things just seemed to keep happening to her and she was fucking sick and tired of it. She drew back her fist and punched the tile wall in frustration, hard.

"Fuck!" she shouted, cradling her hand. 'Great.' she thought, 'smart move Allison, now what are you going to do?' She reached with her good hand to turn the shower off, and jumped when she heard a loud banging noise on the door.

"Cameron…Cameron are you okay?" he didn't hear anything. "Allison can you answer me?" House said worriedly, having come as soon as he heard her shout.

She didn't answer, she was too upset by what she had done, and was afraid of what he might say.

"Allison, I am coming in," he said warningly. He opened the door; the shower curtain was still pulled. "Are you alright?" he said.

"Yes, well no, but…" Cameron began, but gave up. "I hit my hand," she stated.

"On what?" House asked, pretty sure of how she'd hit it.

"The wall," she said quietly.

House ran his hand down his face. He thought she might do something like that, the frustration of it getting to her. At least it was a different emotion than sadness. "Yeah they tend to hit back when you do that," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Cameron let out a weak chuckle. "Can you hand me my towel and then I'll let you take a look at my hand?" she asked, knowing that she wouldn't be able to get the towel herself, with the state of her hand.

He handed her the towel wordlessly. She wrapped it around herself and stepped out of the shower.

He could tell which hand it was even before she told him. He cringed at the thought that she'd hurt herself.

He took her right hand wordlessly in his, and looked at it. "Well you've broken your index finger and your middle finger," he said. "I'll tape them up for you, and find something for you to take for the pain."

She nodded silently, embarrassed that she had done something so stupid and that despite that he wasn't mocking her.

"You should probably put a robe on or some loose clothes that won't require you to use this hand," he said, knowing she'd have trouble, at least until her fingers were taped, putting on clothes.

"I don't have a robe, or loose clothes," she said feeling small as she said this.

"What did you pack in that massive bag then?" House asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Low-rider jeans," Cameron said with a small smirk. House stared at her for a minute before comprehension dawned on him and he smiled.

"Let me see what I've got," he said heading towards his room, hoping he had something she could wear, because even in her thin state, the dripping towel didn't cover enough. He shook that thought from his head, 'She's depressed,' he scolded himself. 'She needs help right now. She doesn't need me thinking sexy thoughts about her,' he smirked. 'At least, despite her depression, she has her moments of snark, that's a good sign.'

He sighed and began his mission to find clothes for Cameron.


	3. You Can't Deal With The Pain By Yourself

_Depression is a prison where you are both the suffering prisoner and the cruel jailer. -Dorothy Rowe_

Cameron stood shivering in the bathroom; she knew it wasn't just from the cold. What the fuck had possessed her to punch the wall? And what had just happened with House?

The last thing she wanted right now was for those feelings to resurface, she'd been successful so far at keeping them hidden, but now that plan was out the window.

"Shit!" she said, sighing and sitting down on the edge of the tub. She was just starting to convince herself that she was over him and now here he was helping her. He was picking up the pieces of a broken woman without as much as a complaint, so very unlike him.

She sat there confused and depressed by these thoughts, well more so than she already was. She knew she needed help, but she wasn't going to help anything by torturing herself by being so close to him knowing she couldn't have him. Unfortunately this was her only option, he seemed to be the only person who could help her and at least try and understand her, because he knew the real Cameron, the broken one.

She sat there thinking for a while, and for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night she cried.

With his impeccable sense of timing House chose to walk in at that moment with a t-shirt, sweatpants and medical tape.

"Allison? Are you crying?" he cringed at the stupidity of the question. She just continued to cry as if she hadn't heard him.

He set the clothes down on the edge of the sink and limped over to sit on the toilet lid. He placed his hand on her head and started to gently stroker her hair.

Cameron sniffled and looked up at House, a mixture of surprise and sadness on her face.

Her nose was red and her cheeks were stained with tear tracks. He looked into her eyes and saw that behind the tears there was a mixture of pain and hope.

"House…I'm…" she began, trying to wipe the tears away that kept falling. He placed his hand on her good hand to stop her actions.

"It's okay. I don't mind, but maybe you'd like to get dressed, I'll fix your hand and then we can go sit in the living room and talk about it?" he said gently.

Cameron nodded. She stood up slowly and held out her hand to him to help him up. He looked at it and instead of taking it, took the other one and began to tape her fingers with the medical tape he had brought with him.

Cameron winced in pain as he taped her fingers. He was being gentle but it didn't matter how gentle he was she was pained by her own stupidity.

"All done," he said gruffly, picking up his cane and starting to leave the bathroom.

"House?" she called softly. He stopped and turned to look at her. "Thank you."

He froze, sure she had said those words before to him, but these were so full of emotion and meaning that he knew it wasn't just for taping her fingers. She was thanking him for helping her out of the black pit of despair.

He nodded, "you're welcome."

She moved to close the door, and he called out, "Hey Cameron, you sure you don't need any help getting dressed?"

She smiled in spite of herself. "I'm pretty sure that I can handle this on my own," she said saucily, throwing him a wink before shutting the door.

House smirked. That woman was going to be the death of him one day.

He stood there in the hall, despite his leg's protest, waiting for her to emerge. She walked out after five minutes and to him looked like an angel, well a really comfortably dressed angel.

Her hair had been brushed and was somewhat damp from the shower but she had let it hang loosely around her face. She'd had to roll up the waist of his sweatpants so they came only down to her ankles, and she was wearing one of his old Gravedigger t-shirts. She looked down at the shirt, and up at him and grinned.

He shook his head bringing his thoughts to the present. He hadn't even realized that he'd pulled out that shirt. He smiled back at her and led the way to the living room. She sat down on the couch, while he brought over their dinner. This way he could make sure that she ate, and she could talk to him in a comfortable setting if she wanted to.


	4. Alone In A Crowd

_I lean to you, numb as a fossil. Tell me I'm here. Sylvia Plath_

House passed her a plate with a sandwich on it; she took the plate wordlessly and set it on her lap. House plopped down on the couch next to her and looked at her expectantly.

Cameron sighed and rolled her eyes, knowing that he wasn't going to let her do anything until she had eaten something. She tentatively took a bite and was pleasantly surprised to see that House could actually make his own sandwich.

Her surprise must have shown on her face because House chuckled and said, "It's not too hard to make a sandwich, even I can manage not to mess that up."

"Says the man who refuses to make his own coffee at work," Cameron said smiling.

"That's different. Your coffee just tastes better," he said, as though it was a well known fact.

Cameron smirked in spite of her mood, she could get used to falling into this easy banter again. 'No bad Cameron, this is not something you need to pick back up, it's a bad habit' she internally scolded herself for falling back into her old habits.

She took another bite of the sandwich and continued her inner monologue. As she was doing so she looked over at House. He seemed so much more at ease at home; she chalked it up to being comfortable on his own turf. She would never say it but she loved watching him when he was at ease, it made him seem younger and almost approachable… i almost /i .

She sighed knowing that she shouldn't continue with these thoughts because in the end it only left her with pain and self-loathing.

Hearing her sigh House set his sandwich down on the table and turned to look at her.

"Cameron, you need to tell me what's going on so I can help you," he said with an air of patience that was never evident in the clinic.

Cameron snorted, "Are you doubling as a therapist now?" She knew he was just trying to help, but that in itself unnerved her. House being helpful especially when it came to her was unheard of and she wasn't sure how to handle it.

House shot her a sharp glance, "No I'm not, but as a doctor, your boss, and a friend I'd like to know because I hate seeing you this way."

Cameron raised her eyebrow at the word friend but wisely chose to ignore it not wanting cause any conflict by questioning it.

"Cameron, let me help you. You help everyone else and now you need help. And since I'm the only one who's stubborn enough to handle your stubbornness you're going to get mine."

She had to smile at that because she knew it was an adequate assessment of the situation.

She placed her sandwich on the table next to his and sighed again before beginning.

"House, I don't know what's wrong with me," she held up her hand to stop his interruption. "I know I am depressed, that's obvious. But normal people get depressed, but I have never experienced it this badly before."

"Cameron you're under a lot of stress right now, its understandable," he tried, but she shook her head, chuckling wryly.

"No, don't you see? It's not. It started before the possibility of AIDS, before the drugged out sex. It's just more obvious now because all of a sudden I can have a legitimate reason to be depressed. Before all of this I still felt this way, only I knew better than to make it apparent to anyone because then they'd just worry, or try and make me feel better."

"This started a while ago. This, this feeling of emptiness. The feeling of being completely and utterly void. Most days I just want to curl into a ball and go to sleep, and never wake up."

"Its not that I'm suicidal," she said preempting any assumptions that she could be. "I just don't feel the way I used to. Sure I can make it through a day of work, and fool everyone into thinking I'm okay. I guess though since it's so much worse than before it was obvious to people that something was wrong."

"I feel so alone, and so empty that it frightens me. On good days I fight it and push those feelings below the surface, but on bad days, like today it overflows and it's just too much to deal with."

She sighed shakily and glanced up to see his reaction to her little emotional purge.

He was looking at her, almost seeing her for the first time. His eyes were searching hers worriedly, eyes that were full of compassion and some other emotion that was familiar yet foreign at the same time.

He knew now that he was the only one capable of helping her, of fixing this damaged woman. Sure he had scoffed at her before for being damaged, and had admitted to her that he himself was damaged. But who better than a person whose already been there to help you out of hell?

He shifted over on the couch, placing his hand comfortingly on her uninjured one and placing his arm around her shoulders, holding her as she slumped forward, emotionally and physically drained from the day.

"I am so sorry Cameron. I know how that can be, more so than you think. And I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you earlier when you needed me. But I'm here now and I won't leave you alone."


End file.
